


Quidditch

by PaddyWack



Series: Touch of Magic [2]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Magic, Obscurial, Obscurus, Quidditch, Teamwork, Venom has anger issues, everybody is on brooms, learning to dodge, you're a wizard eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 02:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddyWack/pseuds/PaddyWack
Summary: Eddie is a Seeker.They learn the value of teamwork.





	Quidditch

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments left on the first part of this (newly existing) series! I hope you enjoy this little snippet, and that you look forward to more! 
> 
> Also, let's pretend for a moment that Hogwarts utilizes a Bludger that is NOT a 150lb ball of solid iron, and is instead a very dense mass of hardened leather, mkay? Because that's what it appears like in the movies and we're not trying to explode bodies on contact here. This is a SAFE school.
> 
> Sort of.

Eddie grits his teeth and clings to his broom for dear life. It careens wildly out of control, knocked into a chaotic tailspin from a perfectly aimed Bludger that has nearly torn his shoulder out of socket. It throbs white-hot, numb from the elbow down, which kind of makes the whole flying thing nearly impossible.

 

He tries to pull up with as much strength as he can with his one good arm, and is successful in slowing down the whirlwind of watercolors spinning crazily past his vision.

 

_Did you see that? It was that weakling Slytherin!_

Eddie grimaces, partly in pain, partly because his Obscurus is seething like a wild animal just beneath the surface.

 

“I know,” he pants, curling forward. He glances to the side and, sure enough, Slytherin’s Beater Carlton Drake sits atop his broom with a shit eating grin on his stupid face, emerald robes flared dramatically out behind him.

 

“What’s wrong, Brock? Can’t keep your seat?” he jeers, giving his club a lazy swing. He winks and zooms off to the other side of the field.

 

Eddie spits out a curse. “I’ll kill him. I’m going to knock him off that broom and shove it right up his – did you see _that_?”

 

A flash of gold zips inches from them. His Obscurus, still frothing like a demon and urging Eddie to make good on his threat, suddenly careens them forward on their broom like a shot from a cannon. Eddie has to scramble for a hold to keep himself upright, and the jury is still out on whether or not the sound that comes from his mouth is a squeak or a girlish scream.

 

“Slow down!”

 

_I see it!_

The Snitch is a streak of tantalizing gold, barely three yards ahead. His Obscurus feels like a hook in his chest as it yanks him forward of its own volition, and closes the space in seconds. He wrestles for control.

 

“Let me do it – I can grab it!”

 

_You’re going to miss it, you loser!_

Eddie bares his teeth in a half-mad grin as they barrel closer to the Snitch. “You’re the loser,” he snaps over the wind, and stretches his arm out. The wings flick his fingers. He’s so close. One more inch –

 

He sees Drake from the corner of his eye. The Slytherin whacks another Bludger at them with a nasty smirk, and it hurtles at Eddie with shocking precision. This one is going to take him out for sure.

 

“Oh shit,” Eddie gasps.

 

He’s not sure what happens. One moment he’s staring death in the face in the form of a lunging ball of doom, his Obscurus howling in fury, and the next he jerks forward and under, flipped 180 degrees at a dizzying downward angle, and finds himself upright once again with hardly any idea of who is in control and how in God’s name he is still alive.

 

He looks down at his fist, struck dumb at the sight of the Snitch wiggling unhappily in his palm.

 

Off to the side, Drake is clutching his face, nose gushing blood, and holy fuck did they just use their broom like a friggin bat in _mid-air?_

 

_We did it, Eddie._

 

His Obscurus practically purrs with satisfaction. The Hufflepuff bleachers erupt in ear-splitting shrieks, claps, and shouts of victory. The announcer is declaring the win, and he’s surrounded by his teammates on brooms, deafened by their cheers.

 

Still stunned but practically bursting with exhilaration, he thrusts his fist in the air with the Snitch buzzing between his fingers.

 

He tucks his injured arm against his chest and clutches his robes, hugging himself tightly even though it hurts, hugging his Obscurus, and directs every ounce of excitement and gratitude he can manage inward at its whirling presence.

 

“ _We did it,_ ” he repeats.


End file.
